


Casa Erotica 13

by undersail2013



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Casa Erotica, Episode: s05e08 Changing Channels, Episode: s05e19 Hammer of the Gods, M/M, Sam Winchester's Hot Bod, Season/Series 05, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 23:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1759157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undersail2013/pseuds/undersail2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe's trying to plot out a new storyline, but the other actor in his fantasy isn't exactly what - or who - he's aiming for...</p>
<p>Damn this free will...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Casa Erotica 13

“Okay, so the scene starts with the handsome waiter-”

_Me, obviously_

“-approaching the red door-”

_No, ‘the green door!’_

“(Haha, good one) -the green door to room forty-”

_Sixty_

“-two-”

_Nine_

“Okay, room 69 (a bit obvious)”

_The idea is not to be cunning; it’s a porn fantasy, jackass! Focus: little Gabe is going to sleep over here…_

“Okay. Right. So. Waiter goes to the door, yeah, and he’s got a platter, a silver platter of whipped cream and strawberries in his hands. And it’s covered with a big silver dome, with a handle shaped like a-”

_This is the prop you’re getting all worked up over?_

“(Shh, I’m setting the scene.)” 

_Set the scene a little faster, my balls are turning blue._

“(It’s called foreplay, asshole; calm your pants.)”

_This isn’t foreplay; are you masturbating or registering for a wedding shower- ow!_

_Ahhh…_

_Oh heeells yeah, that’s the spot…_

“(Shh!) Fine. He approaches the door and he can hear muffled moans. Maybe the TV is on? Sounds like only one voice, though, a-”

_masculine_

“-feminine voice. (Masculine?! )”

_Ummm_

“Hmm, so anyway, he knocks on the door. ‘Room service,’ he calls. A flustered-”

_Man’s_

“-voice calls out, ‘Just a minute!’ There are the sounds of panicked scrambling, and the waiter imagines the-”

_Man_

“-PERSON pulling clothes from the floor and throwing them on, haphazardly, struggling to pull on pants and jeans and fumbling with buttons. The door opens in, and the-”

_Person_

“-person breathes heavily and leans against the frame. The waiter’s attention pans slowly up, from bare feet to snug jeans, unfastened fly hidden under the long tails of a-”

_Flannel_

“-shirt, barely half-buttoned and opened all the way down to the heaving chest, perky nipples undisguised, throat bare and kissable. The waiter pushes into the room, crowds-”

_Him_

“(Whatever) them into the room. He deposits the tray on the dresser, and plunges his hands into long thick messy brown hair, before stealing a kiss from-”

_Sam._

“(Sam.)”

_Yup._

“(Shit.)” Gabriel sighs, plopping heavily onto the bed. He snaps his fingers, and the actor freezes. Gabe stares at it, scrunches up his whole face in concentration. If he really focuses, the figure’s features morph into a curvy brunette: big brown doe eyes, full red lips, huge jugs, voluptuous and free under a flowy blouse, red-and-black-checked but sheer, and what a tall glass of water she is! As his face relaxes into a smug smile, though, the feminine curves slide away, replaced with hard lean lines, and under the wild mane of sex-tangled hair he finds only the Olympian visage of Sam Winchester.

_Not so bad, really, is he, Princess?_

“(Shut your cakehole; this is a problem.)”

_Why?_

“(Because.)” _Why indeed,_ he wonders. “(Because he’s not a boy toy; he’s just a mission.)”

_Never stopped baby Cassie._

“(Oh shaddup already.)” Gabriel is an archangel. All-powerful. Well, just about as all-powerful as anyone who’s not Dad could be. He doesn’t need to slum it, doesn’t need dalliances with humans. Even if they are archangel vessels.

_Ew, he’s Luci’s vessel. Well, that killed the mood._

“(Hello, it’s only incest if Luci is inside him.)” He flinches. “(That came out wrong.)” But really, what’s the big deal about Sam Winchester? Gabe’s not interested. Not in the least. What is there to like about a hunter who’s shoved more sharpened stakes into him than he cares to count? 

_Definitely don’t think about Sam shoving long, hard-_

“(Seriously? Go to hell, brah.)” He stands up, walks closer to the frozen statue before him. Takes one of its big hands between his, admires the long fingers, and doesn’t shiver to think about those fingers in-

_See? Now you’re getting it!_

“(I never said he couldn’t be useful.)” He brushes a finger along the hard muscles of its exposed forearm, grips at the bicep under the red-and-black flannel. No doubt about it: this specimen _does it_ for him. Gabe continues to circle the figure, running his hands under the shirt to feel the smooth skin of its-

_Rippling back muscles under your palms, so hard and lean! Squeeze them! Bite them!_

-and cupping its firm ass in both hands-

_Imagine how tight that hard little ass is!_

-before clutching at the other arm and spinning the pretty figure, face-to-face with Gabriel. Well, chest-to-face, and that’s good enough, really. He traces the anti-possession tattoo with his finger and trails down the sternum. Reads the writing under the skin and chuckles at his brother’s warnings. Spreads his fingers into the grooves of its abs, before sliding his fingers over hips sharp enough to cut glass and down into the waistband. Unbelted jeans, thrown on in haste, not even an attempt to zip them up. 

_Going commando for you…_

He lets his fingertips splay through the hairs at the base of the half-erect cock, just soft enough to be crammed not-too-painfully under stiff denim. Gabe considers freeing it, fluffing the immobile actor to finish the scene-

_And your hot mouth on every square inch of this tanned and toned Adonis creature, salty and earthy and really truly human. So deliciously sweet and-_

“(No. Not like this.)” He can build a million billion fantasy mates out of thin air and angel juice; why fixate on this one, a real human? “Insignificant,” he sneers, waving his hand at the lifeless sculpture and watching it poof out, a momentary puff of smoke where the Sam-shaped figure had stood. “Insignificant,” he repeats. “I’ve accidentally inhaled gnats that were more cosmically important than those two chuckleheads.” Why should he fixate on this one? A real human, one he’s actually met? 

He snaps his fingers, and the figure is before him again. He presses a curious palm over the heart; still lifeless, of course. He knows that it is just an elaborate illusion, but he holds his hand there for some moments as he stands on his tippy-toes, poring over the face with eyes and fingertips. It’s ridiculous, really, with the square jaw and those swooping sideburns and the Neanderthal brow ridge-

_Hey, you liked the Neanderthals! You thought they were pretty damn cute . Definitely doable…_

-but it’s the eyes that do him in. Deep eyes, hazel eyes, puppy dog eyes. “He tried to talk to me. Reason with me. The dumb Samsquatch didn’t want to stake me; he wanted to be equals.”

_Friends?_

“(Shh.)” But yes. Friends. It- He- _Sam_ is not just a hunter, cold and brutal and feral. He’s a human. 

_A pretty good human._

“(Yeah.)” He gives the figure another hungry once-over with his eyes before he poofs it away again. He sighs, frustration, confusion, and maybe a touch of willful determination creeping into his thoughts. Turning back to the picture window of his own personal Casa Erotica set, he drops his elbows to the windowsill and looks out. With a snap, the view changes, and he can see Sam, the real Sam. He and his brother are in the Imphallus somewhere in middle America, on a collision course with the _one_ pagan meeting place anywhere on the Winchester’s turf. 

_Elysian Fields, man. Good times._

Gabe sighs again, tries to remind himself that the kid is just a mission, he and his brother both. Keep the stubborn little martyrs alive long enough to get their scripts, then stick them in the green room until Luci and Michael are ready to go live.

_Fuck that._

“(You said it.)” He’s played his part, fulfilled his role, even though he never wanted to. Never. Didn’t want to be a part of the apocalypse at all. Gabe couldn’t imagine a worse punishment than being forced to witness Armageddon, let alone have to play PA and vessel-wrangler-

_And fluffer-_

No one mentioned the part where you develop a soft spot for the little buggers. Not Dean so much- for all Gabe cared, that dick could piss up a rope. Gabe never did understand what Cassie saw that was so special about him. But again: soft spot.

_You’re gonna do it, aren’t you? You’re gonna fight for them?_

“I gotta. I gotta stand up to my family. Those arrogant idiots are gonna try to confront Lucifer-”

_And so are the Winchesters._

“-and they’re all gonna die. A couple of humans, a few pantheons of tired old deities. Least I can do is give them a shot.”

_It’s so crazy, it just might work._

“And if it does, well, then maybe Sam Winchester won’t be just a mission anymore.”


End file.
